


Taking Charge

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Anger, Armoury Sex, Dirty Talk, Episode Tag, M/M, Plot What Plot, Revenge, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-09
Updated: 2012-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-30 21:05:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their trip to the future, Becker has a few things to say to Danny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Charge

**Author's Note:**

> Episode tag to (and therefore spoilers for) episode 3.08.

Danny wandered into the armoury to find Becker unsurprisingly in residence, calmly and methodically checking over his shotgun after the day’s activities. The soldier was favouring his left arm slightly, and Danny remembered the injury Becker had sustained there, wincing slightly as he recalled his own less than sympathetic kick to that exact spot, determined at the time to bring the hero of the hour down to earth a little bit.  
  
“Medics patch you up all right?” he asked, knowing that Becker would have sensed his entrance with his military-instilled spidey-senses. Danny’s own injury, inflicted by the juvenile future-predator, had been neatly bandaged, the bright white gauze poking out from the neck of his shirt.  
  
“Fine,” replied Becker shortly, not looking up. There was a brief pause, and then he continued, “Was there something you wanted, Quinn?”  
  
“Just a chat, I suppose,” Danny said. “Had a bit of a close call today, didn’t we? Feels good to still be alive, and all that.”  
  
“Can’t you go and chat to Connor or Abby? Or Sarah?”  
  
“I haven’t got a clue where Sarah is, Abby’s taken her brother off home, and Connor’s far too preoccupied with checking that his precious anomaly-locker didn’t sustain any permanent damage. You’re it, I’m afraid.”  
  
Becker didn’t reply.  
  
“So, do you fancy a drink or something when you’re done here?” Danny asked, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable, but determined to persevere.  
  
“Not really, no.” Becker’s attention was still firmly fixed on his gun, and his tone was curiously flat.  
  
Danny frowned. Something was definitely off here.  
  
“You know, it could have been a lot worse today,” he offered. “We rescued the kid, no one died, and we got some Intel on Johnson’s operation.”  
  
“Yes,” Becker said, still in that same flat voice. “It could have been. A _lot_ worse.”  
  
“Okay, what _is_ your problem?” Danny exploded. “Have I done something to piss you off?”  
  
And _now_ Becker looked at him – a cold, flinty stare that suddenly reminded Danny that he was speaking to a Special Forces captain.  
  
“Let’s think, shall we?” Becker said, his public school accent suddenly dripping with disdain.  
  
Danny felt his hackles rise. “If you’ve got an issue with the way I lead my team, then tell me so,” he retorted.  
  
“I’ve got an issue with the way you lead your team,” said Becker, slowly and distinctly. He didn’t raise his voice, but oddly that only gave his words more impact.  
  
“Please, do elaborate,” Danny invited, his hands curling into fists.  
  
Becker obviously noticed the small movement, but the flick of his eyes from Danny’s hands back to his face was clearly dismissive.  
  
“The situation today was a complete fuck-up from start to finish, Quinn,” the soldier told him. “We should never have gone in there alone, and once it became clear that things were beyond our control we should have retreated and waited for backup. _Exactly_ like I said.”  
  
“So that’s what this is about?” Danny mocked. “Soldier boy’s upset because nobody wanted to follow his suggestion?”  
  
“It wasn’t a fucking _suggestion_ ,” Becker hissed. “It was the sensible course of action, and you know it! But you were so determined you could play the big hero. So desperate to make yourself look good in front of Abby and Connor. And everyone nearly died because of your fucking gung-ho attitude.”  
  
“And Jack Maitland _would_ have died if we’d waited for backup,” Danny pointed out. “The bugs, the predators – one of them would have got him.”  
  
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Becker said. “Of course I do. But it doesn’t change things. This isn’t a game, Quinn. People will die. People _have_ died, and you just think this is all a big lark.”  
  
Before he was even aware he was moving, Danny was crowding into Becker’s face, pushing him back against the racks of weapons behind them. The shotgun clattered forgotten on to the bench as they glared at each other, mere inches apart, breath hot on each other’s faces.  
  
“A lark?” Danny ground out. “You think I see this as a lark? My brother _died_ because of one of these fucking anomalies – have you forgotten that? So you’ll excuse me if I didn’t want Abby to go through the same thing.”  
  
For a split second something like dismay flickered in Becker’s eyes, and Danny felt a small surge of triumph. But then the anger returned to the soldier’s expression, and if anything his glare seemed to intensify.  
  
“Of course I didn’t want Abby to lose her brother,” Becker said. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you acted rashly, and everyone was nearly killed. Next time you… _we_ …might not be so lucky.”  
  
Danny wanted to shake the other man, rattle him against the racks of weapons until some goddamn emotion fell out and Becker admitted that sometimes a cool assessment of the situation wasn’t as effective as simply going with your gut.  
  
But he knew it would be no use. Becker was career military. He didn’t know any other way, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to admit the possibility that there might _be_ another way.  
  
Frustrated, Danny pressed closer, forcing Becker back against the racks until he was sure the metal brackets must be digging painfully into the soldier’s back. For a moment he wondered if the position was aggravating Becker’s shoulder injury, but if it was, Becker’s expression gave nothing away.  
  
Danny sighed minutely to himself. This was getting him nowhere, and he was sensing that he wouldn’t be able to push Becker that much further before the soldier retaliated.  
  
But just as he was about to step away, he felt something. Something…unexpected.  
  
He glanced down involuntarily, although the two of them were pressed so closely together that he couldn’t see anything. But Becker had noticed the look, and suddenly the dismay was back in his eyes.  
  
“Adrenaline,” he said expressionlessly, but Danny wasn’t fooled.  
  
“Oh, really?” he said, raising his eyebrows. He shifted his position slightly, so that his thigh was pressing against Becker’s groin, and watched the soldier blink suddenly.  
  
“Fuck off, Quinn.” But Becker’s voice was hoarse now, and Danny hesitated in mock thought before replying.  
  
“No,” he said, “I don’t think I will.”  
  
“I could make you, you know,” Becker pointed out.  
  
“Yes, you could,” Danny agreed. “As a matter of fact, I’m kind of surprised you haven’t done it already. But then, perhaps you don’t really want me to.”  
  
He smirked in response to Becker’s scowl. “You’re really quite pissed off at me right now, aren’t you?” he said. “And yet, it hasn’t stopped you wanting this one bit.”  
  
“Fuck off,” Becker said again, but there was even less conviction in his voice than the first time.  
  
Danny shook his head. “Not going to happen. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m going to take advantage of this situation.”  
  
And then Becker did shove at him, trying to push him way. Taken off guard, Danny stumbled back a step of two, feeling the regret wash over him. The implication was clear. He’d thought Becker might be up for this, but Danny wasn’t going to push the situation if he wasn’t.  
  
Then he blinked as he realised that Becker had turned his back, his hands gripping the upright struts of the weapons rack, presenting himself in obvious invitation.  
  
Danny fought hard not to gape in shock. He’d been imagining maybe a mutual hand-job, and if he was _very_ lucky, perhaps Becker on his knees. Not this.  
  
But, never one to turn down an opportunity, he got over his surprise quickly enough, and smirked again, even though he knew Becker couldn’t see it.  
  
Becker, for his part, seemed to have interpreted the pause as some kind of hesitation. “If you’re going to do it, Quinn, fucking well get on with it before someone walks in and interrupts,” he ground out.  
  
“Oh, I’m definitely going to do it, soldier boy,” Danny assured him. He stepped forward again, looped his arms round Becker’s waist, and fumbled open the fastening of his BDUs, pushing them and Becker’s underwear unceremoniously down his thighs.  
  
“Nice. Very nice,” he murmured appreciatively, taking in the view.  
  
“Stop inspecting the merchandise and get on with it,” Becker snapped.  
  
“All right,” replied Danny agreeably. He cast around quickly, eyes lighting on the bottle of gun oil Becker had been using to maintain his weapon. Perfect.  
  
Becker drew in a sharp breath when Danny trickled a little of the liquid down the cleft of his arse, and then groaned heavily when two oiled fingers were shoved into him, pushing back eagerly against the intrusion.  
  
“Figures,” said Danny conversationally, as he worked Becker’s hole, twisting and stretching almost roughly.  
  
“What?” Becker panted out.  
  
“That someone so damn set on being in charge all the time secretly likes taking it up the arse. You’re a psychiatrist’s dream.”  
  
Any comeback Becker might have made was lost in another groan as Danny’s fingers found his prostate and rubbed against it hard.  
  
“Fucking gagging for it, aren’t you?”  
  
“Just do it, Quinn.”  
  
Nodding to himself, Danny pulled his fingers free and quickly undid his jeans, freeing his hard cock with a quiet sigh of relief. Tricking a little more oil into his hand, he slicked himself, and then without warning thrust into Becker in one hard push.  
  
Hobbled as he was by the BDUs around his thighs, Becker hadn’t been able to spread his legs very far, and he felt almost obscenely tight around Danny’s cock. “Fuck, that feels good,” Danny muttered, and without waiting for Becker to respond, he drew back and then thrust home again as hard as he could, setting up a pounding rhythm.  
  
There was a slight drag, the result of not enough preparation and too little oil, but if the grunts dropping from Becker’s lips and the way he was pushing back against Danny thrusts were any indication, he was enjoying the added friction.  
  
The weapons in the racks rattled together faintly every time Danny thrust, and he could see Becker’s knuckles whitening as he gripped the struts tightly.  
  
“So fucking tight,” Danny said, upping the pace even more. “Your arse is made for fucking, soldier boy. And you love it, don’t you? You fucking love it.”  
  
Becker’s moan might have been agreement, or it might have been encouragement. And when a second later he gasped out, “Harder,” Danny decided that it had probably been both. He obliged Becker’s demand, and now the racks were rattling in earnest.  
  
“Just imagine if one of your men walked in now,” he said. “And saw you like this. Taking it up the arse and fucking begging for more. What would they think of you, soldier boy? What would they think if they saw you being fucked by me?”  
  
The punishing pace he was maintaining hadn’t given Danny any opportunity to get his hands on Becker’s cock, but apparently he didn’t need to. At Danny’s words, Becker gave a low moan, and suddenly came hard, shooting come all over the racks in front of him, his arse tightening even more around Danny’s cock.  
  
Thrusting into Becker’s spasming body a few more times, Danny’s hit his own climax with a hoarse cry, and he just barely held himself back from slumping against Becker.  
  
When he decided he could safely move back without his legs giving way, Danny did so, his cock sliding out of Becker’s hole prompting another moan from the soldier. Becker himself seemed strangely disinclined to move, and as he tucked himself back into his jeans, making a mental note to hit the showers later, Danny took a moment to enjoy the view again. There were red marks on Becker’s hips where Danny had gripped them tightly, his thighs were streaked with gun oil, and come was starting to leak out of his stretched, abused hole.  
  
Danny grinned to himself. Very nice indeed.  
  
“Well, I’m glad we had this little discussion,” he said cheerfully. “I think we’ve come to an understanding, don’t you?”  
  
Becker didn’t reply, and he still wasn’t moving. His head was hanging down between his shoulders, and his hands were still curled around the struts of the rack in a death grip.  
  
“I’ll just leave you to finish cleaning your weapons then, shall I?” Danny continued. “The offer of a drink still stands, by the way, so come and find me when you’re done if you’re still up for it.”  
  
Becker maintained his silence. Danny’s grin widened. “Fine, have it your own way, soldier boy.”  
  
He started whistling lightly as he left the armoury.


End file.
